CHAPTER XVIII.
DOWN THE BRITISH CHANNEL.
With the exception, it may be, of the Mediterranean Sea, there is noother water whereupon so much history has been manufactured as on theBritish Channel.
Away back beyond Caesar's day and ever since, it has been cruised overby all sorts of vessels and fleets. Its first absolute rulers were theNorse-Saxon vikings. After them it has been Danish, Dutch, French, andEnglish.
One of the later Dutch admirals once carried a broom at his masthead ina boastful declaration that he had swept the Channel clean of everyopposing force. Not a great while afterward, the British sea-captainsfell heirs to the Hollander's broom.
The _Noank_ had not lain long grappled to the disabled _Arran_. Therewas danger in every hour of delay. The plunder obtained, althoughvaluable, was not excessively bulky, and was rapidly transferred andstowed away.
There was no apparent danger but that the brig would speedily receiveassistance, for there were other sails already in sight. Her firstdisability, as to any of these, was that she was no longer able to firea signal-gun, and all her rockets and other explosives had been takenaway. Her officers and crew were left to do whatever they could withflags in the daytime, or with lanterns by night.
"We're off," thought Guert Ten Eyck, as the schooner swung away, allher sails going out as she did so. "Captain Avery says he must captureone more prize, if it's only to take off some of our men. Then we'reto streak it for home! Don't I want to get there?"
The cruise of the _Noank_ had indeed become a long one. There wereseveral ship reasons why it would be good for her to go into dock andbe overhauled for repairs. Her crew, also, were more than willing tosee their homes and families.
"My boy," said Groot, the Dutchman, as he came to sit down by his youngfriend, "you go home. I have no home. I must live on the sea. Theland is not my place."
"I'll be glad to get there," said Guert, "if it's my own land. Do youknow if we're to run into Amsterdam?"
"Not if the captain is wise," replied Groot. "There will be too manyEnglishmen looking after him, as soon as they hear of this affair."
"Well, I guess they won't like it," laughed Guert. "Up-na-tan ishomesick."
The red man was standing within a few feet of them, and he answered asif he had been spoken to.
"Ugh!" he said. "Ole chief want to know 'bout he island. Want seeManhattan. Mebbe all lobster get away. Up-na-tan go see ole place.Fish in Harlem River."
That was what was the matter with him. Warrior he might be, sailor,pirate, or privateersman, but at that moment he was dreaming of thehappiness of pulling in flounders and blackfish from the waters aroundhis island.
Guert, on his part, was thinking of his mother. He wondered if shestill were living at the Avery farm-house, and if his prize-money hadbeen duly paid over to her to make her comfortable.
"Now, every man hark!" said Captain Avery to his crew, when, a littlelater, he had gathered them amidships. "We've a close race to run. Ifthis wind holds, we shall be in the Straits of Dover at about daylightto-morrow morning. We are goin' to risk it and cut our way through.Three cheers for home!"
Vigorous, indeed, were the hurrahs that answered him, and on sped theschooner. Her sails that were torn by the shot of the _Arran_ werebeing replaced by new ones, and skilful sail tailors were busy with therents of the old. The damage to her bulwarks was of no importance andnot a shot had penetrated her sides. The American sailors were in finespirits, but not so were Lieutenant Tracy and the crew of the _Arran_.Hardly two hours went by before his hoped-for succor came, but hewished it had been a merchantman rather than a man-of-war. The soundof the cannonading had been borne by the wind to the line-of-battleship. She had sailed toward it, as a matter of course, and here, now,was one of the boats at the _Arran's_ side. On her deck was theseventy-four's first lieutenant, so hot with wrath that he could hardlylisten to poor Tracy's report, while he himself rapidly inspected thedamages done by Up-na-tan's well-sent iron.
"Help yourself?" he exclaimed. "Why, they made a log of your brig!What's the world coming to? They're prime gunners, my boy. We mustmake out to sink that rascal. I don't know exactly what to do withyour craft."
He did know, nevertheless. Temporary steering-gear was fitting on heras rapidly as might be, and the pumps were going, for the _Arran_ wasleaking badly at the stern.
"Tracy, my boy," said the lieutenant, "get her into any port thewind'll help you to. We're away after that saucy privateer."
So surely and so powerfully would the fugitive be followed, not tospeak of any perils which might be hovering around the pathway beforeher. The commander of the line-of-battle ship knew somethingconcerning at least a part of these. He listened to the report of hisfirst officer, on his return, angrily yet coolly, and he replied:--
"All right, Hobson. Tracy isn't to be blamed, I see. As for thepirate, we'll chase her, but she's a lost dog already. The wholeChannel fleet is under orders to gather at Dover Straits. She isrunning right in among 'em. She'll be overhauled before eight bellsto-morrow."
"Those Yankees are slippery chaps, sir," said the lieutenant, shakinghis head.
The hours went swiftly by, and Captain Avery remained on deck, pacingthoughtfully to and fro. Midnight went by and still the wind heldgood. It was a strong, northerly breeze, upon which he could haveasked for no improvement.
"Lights! Lights! Lights!" he was at last repeating, as he lookedahead. "There's a reg'lar fleet of some sort. Our lanterns are allright, I'd say, 'cordin' to the signal-book. Bad for us, though. Allthose are British men-o'-war, not merchantmen. Port there, Taber; Imust be ready to speak this feller that's nearest. Groot, you andGuert go to the rail. Up-na-tan, you and Coco must help. They mustn'thear any English. Both of you can talk Dutch. Some of us'll chatterFrench and Spanish."
There were, however, on board that man-of-war, men who could understandDutch. One of them was an officer who came to the rail to conversewith Groot, after hails had been exchanged.
"_Magdalen_, of Rotterdam?" he said. "Tell those monkeys to shut uptheir jabber, there, so I can hear! From Copenhagen last? You spokethe line-o'-battle ship _Humber_, coming this way? Did you hearanything of that American privateer?"
Dutch and French again broke out upon the supposed _Magdalen_, and theEnglishman shouted back toward his own quarter-deck:--
"Hurrah! The _Humber_ reports the Yankee cruiser sunk by the revenuecutter _Arran_, Lieutenant Tracy. Hurrah for him! Hard fight! TheYankees fought to the last. Nearly a hundred prisoners. Heave ahead,_Magdalen_! Good news!"
Loud Dutch shouts replied to him, and on went the _Noank_, while theother vessels of the British Channel fleet received the welcome tidingsas it was passed along from ship to ship. Therefore there was nolonger any need that they should be on the watch for the impudent,destructive adventurer from the other side of the Atlantic. She hadgone to the bottom!
"I feel kind o' queer," thought Guert. "I couldn't ha' done it myself.I had to let Groot do the lying. I'm afraid I'll never do for war. Idon't mind a fight, out and out, but somehow I can't help speaking thetruth, Dutch or English."
Up-na-tan, on the other hand, was in great good-humor over the veryIndian-like manner in which the British were being defeated. The Dovergathering of their war-ships was to him a kind of ambush through whichhe and his friends were cunningly crawling by hiding their feathers andwar-paint.
They were not exactly crawling, either, for Captain Avery was callingupon his schooner for all the speed she had.
"We mustn't lose an inch!" he said. "Their best racers'll be comin' onin our wake in less'n an hour, maybe. I wish this night'd last all dayto-morrow."
The next morning had not arrived, indeed, when the _Humber_ herselfcame within hail of one of her Dover assembly friends. Then, shortly,there arose a more noisy jabber in English than had been heard in Dutchand French on the _Noank_, for the genuine news had been told in placeof Hans Groot's i
nvention. The actual outcome of the fight between the_Noank_ and the _Arran_ did not call for any enthusiastic cheering.Only a little later, the admiral commanding the fleet summed up thewhole affair.
"Gentlemen," he said, to a number of glum-looking officers, "we havepassed that American pirate right along through this fleet. I thinkwe've a right to go ashore, somewhere, and sit down. It was cleverlydone, though, 'pon my soul! Captain Coverley, select our three bestchasers to follow her. She mustn't be allowed to get away again!"
Each of the three vessels named was three or four times over a matchfor the _Noank_, and her chances did appear to be unpleasantly small.
"There's jest one thing they won't count on our doin'," had been thedecision of Captain Avery. "We must put right out into the Atlantic,aimed at nowhere. If it would only blow a gale, now!"
He was not to be gratified in that particular during the pleasantautumn day that followed. Lighter became the wind, brighter the sky,and stiller the sea.
"It's a schooner wind, Lyme," said his old friend Taber, now the secondmate of the _Noank_. "It gives us our best paces. We've run pastevery keel that was on the same tack, thus far. It isn't really badluck."
"I hope it isn't," the captain gloomily responded. "But this 'ere seais a boat sea. They might come for us with a rigiment of their boats,you know. It's a good thing for us that there isn't a man-o'-war insight, yet. I a'most feel as if there was blood on every mile we'remakin'!"
He was even low spirited. It seemed to him impossible that so long arun of what seamen call good luck could be stretched out much further.The sailors, on the other hand, were taking a different view of thematter, very much more sensibly. Every man of them may have had asuperstitious belief in "luck," but they had also seen, in eachsuccessive emergency, that they had a captain with a long head, andthat he knew exactly what to do with that schooner. They were in goodspirits, therefore, that sunny day. Perhaps they did not know all thereasons he had for now and then shaking his head.
"There's no port for us, hereaway," he thought. "I don't know of onethat it would be safe for us to look into. It's a long v'yage home.We're a good deal overcrowded. There's worse'n that to think of,though. That feller Tracy told me our folks at home are gettin' readyto give it up. He said we are beaten badly, all around. I may find aBritish garrison in New London, when I get there. One in Boston, too.Then my chance for a rope 'round my neck is a sure one. Things lookblack, and no mistake!"
He should have been at his home that day instead of at sea. All overNew England, all over the other colonies, north and south, as far asthe news had been carried; from town to town, from village to village,and from farm to farm, horsemen were riding, men and boys on foot wererunning to tell of the surrender of Burgoyne. The great Britishinvasion and conquest of the northern half of the American rebellionhad broken down. The Six Nations had scattered to their wigwams andcouncil-fires. It would be many days yet before the tidings couldreach England or cross the Channel to astonish Continental Europe andseal the alliance between the United States and France. It would belonger still before it could be known by roving cruisers out at sea.For all American keels, however, their home ports had been made securefrom British assailing until the generals and admirals of King Georgeshould have time given them to consider the Saratoga affair, and makeup their astonished minds as to what it might be best for them toundertake next.
"Anneke Ten Eyck," remarked Rachel Tarns, "thee wicked rebel! Has theeno feelings for thy good king and his wise counsellors? Cannot theeunderstand that their souls may be much disturbed by this untowardevent?"
"I wish their fleets were as badly whipped as Burgoyne's army is,"replied Mrs. Ten Eyck. "Oh! it is so very long since I've heard fromGuert!"
"Trust thy son with thy God!" said Rachel, reverently. "Thee may thinkof this, Anneke: our victory over Burgoyne hath cost much to hundredsof mothers, as loving as thou art. Their sons lie buried at Stillwaterand Saratoga. No gallant ship will bring them home again."
"I know it! I know it!" sobbed Mrs. Ten Eyck. "They gave their livesfor liberty. Guert may have to give his as Nathan Hale did. He toldme he believed he could die as bravely, only he would rather it shouldbe in battle."
"That he may not choose for himself," said Rachel. "It hath come,heretofore, to many of my own people, Quakers, thou callest them, todie by the fire, and by the water, and by the hempen cord, because theywould not give up their freedom to worship God in their own way. Ithink it was well with them. Let thy son die as it shall be given himin the hour of his appointing."
Deep and solemn had grown the tones of the enthusiastic old Friend, butMrs. Ten Eyck dropped her knitting and went to a window to look outlong and wistfully toward the harbor.
"When will he come sailing in?" she thought. "Am I ever to see himagain? Oh! the war is so long, and the sea is so wide, and I love himso!"
Very beautiful and very long-suffering was the patriotism of theAmerican woman of that day. Bitter indeed was the cup that many ofthem had to drink. Costly as life itself were the sacrifices that theywere called upon to make. Well might such a son as Guert, keeping hiswatch on deck at the end of that long, pleasant day, be thinking onlyof his mother, rather than of the dangers that surrounded the _Noank_.Groot, the pirate, came and sat down by him and asked him curiousquestions concerning the way people lived in America.
"I can't get back to our old farm on Manhattan Island," Guert told him,"until Washington's army marches in again. Up-na-tan and Coco cameaway with me when we were beaten."
Groot asked then about the New York battles and about New London.
"I always believed," he said, "that I must always live on the sea, butI've been thinking. I can never be safe afloat. I sail with a ropearound my neck, although I was never a pirate of my own free will. Itis growing in my mind that I had better find some kind of harbor onshore. I shall have prize-money this time. I can make a start atsomething. I believe I could go away back into one of your states andlive a new life."
"That's it," said Guert. "You could go among the Mohawk ValleyDutchmen, if Manhattan Island is too near the sea. You'd be hiddenthere, safe enough. Nobody would ever come for you."
"I'll think of it," said Groot. "No man knows how long he is going tolive, anyhow."
So there was rejoicing, with mourning also, and anxiety, upon the land,and it was a time for serious thinking on the sea; but at this momentthe forward lookout startled all on board by the vigorous voice withwhich he sang out:--
"Sail ahead! Close on the larboard bow! Big three-master! No lightshowing!"
"All hands away!" roared Captain Avery. "Port your helm, there! Men!If it's an armed ship, it's too late to get away. We must grapple andboard her, for life and death. Get the grapplings ready! Ship ahoy!"
The response was the report of a shotted gun and an angry shout:--
"We know you! Keep away, or we'll sink you! We can do it!"
"British trader," thought Captain Avery. "He's told us all we need toknow. He's a strong one, I guess, and he could maul us badly. Ouronly chance is to close with him." Then he shouted to his crew:--
"Pikes and cutlasses! All hands be ready to follow me! Hurrah!"
"Hurrah!" came wildly back, and the three guns of the schooner'sbroadside, with the long eighteen, answered the stranger's challenge.
They were well enough directed, and so was the reply that came fromhalf a dozen English pieces, but these, quite naturally at so short arange, were aimed too high. Down came both of the topmasts of the_Noank_, while her hull and ship's company were unhurt. She was acrippled craft in a moment, but she still had enough of headway tocarry her alongside of her bulky antagonist before her guns could bereloaded.
"Throw the grapnels!" shouted Captain Avery. "Haul, now! All aboard!Fore and aft, and amidships! Give it to 'em!"
Down he went the next instant, flat upon the deck of the English ship,as he sprang over her bulwark. Down at his side fell th
e Britishsailor by whose cutlass he had fallen, and over both of them sprangGuert Ten Eyck with Up-na-tan and Coco reaching out to hold him backand get in before him.
"I hit him!" shouted Guert, fiercely.
"Forward! Down with 'em! The ship is ours!"
Right here, amidships, the English crew had supposed to be the strengthof their assailants and they had rushed desperately to meet it. Theyhad not heard, however, the last command of Captain Avery, and his foreand aft boarding parties went over almost unopposed.
"We are surrounded!" exclaimed the British captain, "They are four toone! Hold hands, Americans! We surrender!"
It was time for him to do so, for fully a third of his crew werealready down. They had been completely surprised as well asoutnumbered.
"Ugh!" exclaimed Up-na-tan, as he lowered his pike and turned suddenlytoward Guert. "Boy hurt?"
"Coco catch him!" said the old black man, eagerly, as Guert sank uponthe deck. "Saw lobster cut him!"
"Never mind me!" yelled Guert. "See how Captain Avery is! Look at thecut in his head!"
"Wors'n that!" came hoarsely from first mate Morgan, as he bent abovethe fallen captain. "Taber, take charge of all for a moment! LymeAvery is dead! Shot through the heart! Send the prisoners below.Look out for the wounded. All hands clear ship! Both ships! Makesail at once! I'm in command of the _Noank_. Taber'll take this one."
The second mate was a Groton man, a grim old salt who had sailed inmany seas. He was a good man to lean on in such an emergency, and herattled out his orders while the men secured the prisoners. Morganslowly stood erect as the English commander came toward him.
"You are the American captain, sir? I know what your ship is. Mine isthe _Lynx_, British privateer, Captain Ellis. We were on the lookoutfor you, or we thought we were."
"I'm Captain Morgan, now Lyme Avery is dead," was the somewhat sadlyspoken reply. "How is it that you're so short-handed?"
"We had only forty able men left, all told," said Ellis. "Thirteenmore sick or wounded. All the rest away in prizes or taken out of usby the reg'lar men-o'-war. The prizes and the press-gangs turned usover to you, sir. We took a Baltimore lugger, a bark fromPhiladelphia, two schooners from Boston, and one from Providence. We'ddone right well, so far. You must ha' made a prime run, yourself."
He was evidently a privateersman all over, and his view of the matterwas that he had only met with a disaster in the regular line of hisbusiness.
Morgan's thoughts were running in another direction.
"Your armament's heavier than ours," he said, after a sharp survey."Lyme was right, poor fellow! Our only chance was to board."
"Perhaps it was," said Ellis. "We've two nines and three sixes on aside. Our pivot-gun's gearing broke, and she's no good. Thirty-two,though. The _Lynx_ is an old Indiaman. She's a little heavy, butshe's a good sailer. We cut up your spars a little?"
The sailors of the _Noank_ were already examining her damages. Threemore of her crew had been killed and two wounded in the short, sharpfight. Six Englishmen killed and seven more hurt out of forty told howseverely the odds had been against them.
During the first few moments of noise and confusion, while the othersailors were rushing hither and thither upon their very pressingduties, Up-na-tan and Coco had been kneeling by Guert.
A pike-thrust in his right thigh, a slight sword-cut on his leftshoulder, a bruise upon his head, told for him that he had been in thevery front of the fray.
"Both cut cure up quick," said Up-na-tan, as he bandaged the wounds."Boy no die. Ole chief glad o' that. Take him home to ole woman."
From the Ashantee came nothing but an apparently gratified chuckle.
Their first work was to get him back upon the _Noank_ and into a bunkin Captain Avery's cabin, by Morgan's especial direction. All theother wounded, on both sides, were well cared for. Then there was ashort, sorrowful hour given to sea funerals, and all the dead wereburied in the ocean.
Mate Taber, with more than half of the _Noank's_ company, was put incharge of the _Lynx_. All of the prisoners, also, were left in her.
"Homeward bound, Taber," shouted Captain Morgan, as the ships partedfrom their too close companionship. "Take your own course to NewLondon. The main thing is to get in."
"Ay, ay!" called back the old Groton sailor. "We'll get there. We'dbest keep within signal distance as long as we can, but the schooner'sriggin' needs repairs, and ours doesn't."
"All right," said Morgan. "Keep company!"
The Noank's Log: A Privateer of the Revolution Page 18